A Little Bit Fairytale
by JE Boswell
Summary: So this is a little story about Amy one Christmas without Rory when she decides to visit his grave. If Rory dies in series 7. I don't own Doctor Who or any of the characters. The BBC does. EDIT: (This is sort of an AU as of today (29/09/2012) as the Angels in Manhattan has aired and we know what really happened).


**A Little Bit Fairytale**

The chilly winter air nipped at her cheeks as she made her way down the foggy road. It was strangely quiet but Amy figured that was due to the fact it was Christmas Eve and everybody would be indoors now to avoid the chill. All of the parents were tucking their children into bed and telling them to get to sleep as quickly as they could or Santa may not come. Christmas presents for the little ones had been bought and wrapped already and placed under the tree so there was no need to be out so late in the cold. She closed her eyes for a moment and fought back tears that threatened to overspill any second. She remembered her daughter and the lost years she never got to spend with her. It was times like this that she wished even more than usual she'd been able to bring Melody up but life could be cruel when you travelled with the Doctor. You got to see amazing things that people could only ever dream of but all that wonder came at a cost. You couldn't have all of that and not have to pay for it. She often wondered what her life would have been like if she'd never met the Doctor. The word 'dull' instantly sprang to mind but when Amy thought about it deeply, often when she was sat in her house alone, she thought of Rory and Melody and being able to bring her up without fear. Her first steps, her first word, watching her toddle off to school in the mornings. Rory telling a teenage Melody that she can't wear something because it was too short and the little things that made them a family. Nobody snatching her precious baby away from her as quickly as fingers could be clicked and no threats to a family she had often secretly dreamed of.

"I should have done more," she whispered to herself.

Amy continued down the road, past the familiar houses of the street, every footfall crunching in the snow and echoing along in the emptiness. She gazed up at the night sky, stars filling the gaps and lighting the way for her, where dead streetlights had failed to. Sometimes when she looked at the stars she swore she saw a blue light, only for a second and she'd smile thinking it may be him though he never came to visit anymore. After his departure he only came to visit once probably because of the guilt or maybe he just forgot her. It had been six years since she'd seen the man in the tweed jacked and bow tie stood on her doorstep, a smile spread across the mans face. He'd arrived one night out of the blue. Amy heard the familiar whirring of the time machine but when the knock at the door came she didn't answer the door. She glimpsed once out of the window and saw him at the doorstep but still didn't open the door. She didn't know why but she couldn't bring herself to open it and greet the man she once called her best friend.

She came to a wrought iron gate that had been painted black but peeled and rusted over time. She pushed the gate open and slipped inside, closing it again behind her. Amy traipsed through the cemetery, which seemed a lot colder than it had outside the gates. After wandering through a short while, she found her familiar spot and sat down, not bothering that she'd get wet from sitting in the snow. She placed the brightly coloured yellow flowers by the curve-shaped stone and sighed.

"Merry Christmas stupid face," she said with a weak smile, stroking the tiny petals of the sunflowers. "I saw your Dad the other day. He came around with a present and a card for me bless him. He never forgets birthdays and Christmas" She chuckled and settled down, her hand drawing back from the flowers.

She stopped suddenly, no words to say coming to mind. She wanted to say so much but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. Her eyebrows narrowed as she tried to figure out what she wanted to say properly but her mind betrayed her. Instead she sat in silence and let the tears that had been harbouring for a while, fall. She wiped them away as soon as they fell determined not to let any others go. She was stronger than this. He wouldn't want her to be crying, especially at Christmas.

A light emitted from behind her and she heard two solid footsteps but continued to stare at the pretty yellow flowers. She felt a hand on her shoulder but didn't jump at the touch.

"I thought I'd find you here," a familiar, warming voice said. Amy glanced sideways to look at the woman who'd joined her. River smiled down at her mother and sat down. She placed her own flower on the grave, a singular white rose. The petals of the flower blended in with the snow that covered her father's grave.

"Merry Christmas Dad," she whispered, kissing her hand and then placing it on the stone.

"I always wanted to spend Christmas as a family," Amy said. "I imagined us opening our presents in the morning and laughing as we gave your Dad something silly. At night we'd sit around the table in matching jumpers and laugh at the corny jokes in the crackers and wear those stupid hats" She laughed and her eyes fell shut as she imagined the scene. "Your Dad would come out of the kitchen with a turkey and cut it up for us. Afterwards we'd sit all cuddled up on the sofa and watch the Christmas shows" Amy opened her eyes as she snapped back into the reality of the graveyard.

She noticed River smiling at her though her expression remained one of sorrow at the days she never got to spend with her parents. "Like in a fairytale"

Amy nodded and smiled back. "Just like in a fairytale"

"Dad would have loved that. I can just see him in a reindeer jumper"

The two girls burst into a fit of quiet giggles before everything became solemn again and they remembered why they were there.

Amy wiped the frost away from the gravestone and glanced at the inscription on her husband's grave.

_Rory Williams_

_Loving son, husband and father._

_Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying "I will try again tomorrow"._

Amy had picked the quote at the end herself, finding it fitting for Rory. She let out a breath she'd been holding and watched her breath swirl around in the cold air and fade away.

"Shall we go home?" Amy asked standing up after a few moments of silence. "You have to tell me what you've been up to since I last saw you"

Amy helped River to her feet and the pair left the cemetery and headed towards the warm cosy house at the end of the road.

A whirring noise sounded at the far end of the graveyard. From out of nowhere a blue police box phased in and out of existence. After a few seconds it solidified, making its mark in the snow. The door squeaked open and the light inside spilled out and made the snow look orange. A man stepped out searching for a particular grave. He made his way to the graveside, which had just a few minutes ago been occupied. The man put down a flower, not native to Earth, by the others on the grave. The blue of the flower stood out against the grey of the gravestone. The man wiped his face which was becoming damp from tears. "Merry Christmas Rory"

After a few moments later, the man stood and wiped the snow from his trousers. He got back into his blue box and flew away, back into the stars.


End file.
